


Classic Rock Elves Drabbles

by LadyZeppelin1111 (QueenBoudica1770)



Category: Jimmy Page - Fandom, Led Zeppelin, Music RPF, Robert Plant - Fandom, Rock Music RPF, elves - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Bisexual Male Character, Dark Elves, Elves, F/F, Half-Elves, M/M, Magic, Multi, Other, Rating: M, Smut, Telamon - Freeform, Vampires, Werewolves, White Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:34:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24725368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenBoudica1770/pseuds/LadyZeppelin1111
Summary: This takes place in the alternate Earth known as Telamon--where there are elves, werewolves, vampires and the like. White Death is a band based off of our Led Zeppelin, but made up of elves, and they are known as the Secret Ones. They use their glamour to disguise themselves and take part in human culture.There is a lot of myth, history, magic and legend in this world.You'll probably be able to guess which character correllates with who, lol.I tagged this in the Led Zeppelin fandom as that's the closest thing I could think of to do to get the idea across.This will be a collection of short snippets that others may find entertaining.
Relationships: Jimmy Page/Original Female Character(s), Jimmy Page/Robert Plant
Comments: 8
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tizian23](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tizian23/gifts).



> Telamon, which is like our own familiar Earth, is different in that it shares dimensional portals with the Elven homeland of Tir-na-Nog, the place of Eternal Youth
> 
> White Death was the biggest band in the world during this alternate 1970's, fronted by Fae.
> 
> Elves are also known as the Sidhe (pronounced Shee), or Fae
> 
> Vampires are the Dark Elves (Dubu-Sidhe) who can also make humans vampires too

The Song of Doom is an original story I'm working on about a song by legendary band White Death that the alternate mix kills anyone that listens to it. It's cursed, if you will. I don't plan to include anything here in anything I publish.

Joe West: Singer and lyricist for the band and an Elf. He has a nasty habit of not taking anything seriously and wearing women's blouses and hats. Loves to drink and carouse with groupies.

Roger Giles: The bassist and keyboard player of White Death. Of both human and Sidhe descent, he is a telepath with his own magick up his sleeve, and unlike the story of many bass players he does indeed get the girl.

Keith Taylor: The drummer and all around muscle of the group, he's stuck by the flamboyant Joe through thick and thin. He's also the only full-blooded Mohrtei (human) in the group.

Malcolm Riley: Otherwise known as the Wizard, the guitarist and musical genius of the band. He alternates between playing a Gibson SG and a Fender Telecaster when he's not practicing his magick. He's an Elf with some Mohrtei blood, mostly quiet, and brooding.

Brent Deacon: The band's manager who protects his boys like a mother hen. Foul-mouthed and fearless, there's a lot more to him than what you see at first glance.

2020 CE  
from the Song of Doom storyline—

The room was comfortable, seeing as how it belonged to Jax Deacon, White Death’s old manager’s son, but it was unfamiliar. Malcolm found Joe sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, uncharacteristically dismal. “Wondered where you went,” observed Malcolm while he plopped down beside the blond elf.

“I will die here, in Telamon,” the singer whispered, as if the full import of that realization had just hit him. “I will be one of the few of the Sidhe to die of old age in the mortal world.”

The dark-haired sea-elf put a comforting arm around his comrade, still surprised at how the normally nonchalant frontman was behaving. “There’s a lot you’ve done, mate, to make them mad in Tir-Na-Nog. They’ll get over it, eventually, man. This isn’t permanent. Someday you’ll be able to return and recharge.”

“What I did to Roger, what I’ve done since…I just don’t know. I’m a right bastard, Mal, and it’s coming back on me. Look at me, darling,” he then said with such emotion the Fae wizard complied. “I’ve aged already. I’m not human, this is so frightening and unnatural.”

Malcolm stared at his friend and former bandmate’s face, took in the fine lines forming around the corners of those deep blue eyes and around the lips. There was grey coming in at the temples, contrasting with the warm yellow of his normal hair color. “You afraid you’ll be ugly, Joehnar? Is that it?”

“I’m hideous, and it’s not the wrinkles,” he sighed, gazing back into the square-jawed face of his companion. “I suppose I should pay the price for my shittiness and black soul.”

Malcolm cupped Joe’s face in his free hand. “You’re beautiful and you know it, you ass.” He retracted his arm and with both hands pulled his face close and placed his lips on Joe’s. The blond wood-elf responded hungrily, devouring the full lips of Malcolm with relish. After several long, steamy moments Joe pulled away, surprised. “Despite what you try to cultivate and your bullshit, you’re quite easy to love, Joe. All who come to know you, love you. It’s a gift and a curse,” the guitarist and wizard spoke softly.

Joe’s expression was one of wonder. “After what I’ve put all of you through?”

The answer was the black-haired elf undoing Joe’s shirt and slowly running his long-fingered hand along the newly-bared smooth flesh. The singer moaned and with one motion pulled Malcolm’s t-shirt over his head, then wrapped his long arms around the wizard. Their mouths found each other again, tasting, exploring. 

Since there were so few of the Sidhe even in their heyday and they reproduced so rarely, they were mostly hardwired to seek out the opposite sex..their society having been around for so long, however, they had long since shed the hang-ups and inhibitions that mortals still tended to cling to. The mortal world of Telamon, the Fae found, was a hard place full of tribulation, and so any pleasure they found was treasured.

The two Sidhe were soon completely undressed, their slender bodies, Joe’s tall and Malcolm’s short, melding against one another. They kissed deeply for a good while until Joe gasped in shock and delight when Malcolm moved himself down and took Joe’s member into his warm mouth. Joehnar looked down to see the raven-haired head bobbing slowly up and down as he pleasured him. This went on with the wood-elf riding the building pleasure, him twining his fingers in the shiny black tresses of the guitarist. “Oh, FUCK,” the singer breathed when his companion swirled his tongue around the head of Joe’s manhood. He didn’t last much longer before he exploded in much-needed release. Malcolm swallowed, crawled up Joe’s lean body, and smiled down at him.

Joe rolled to his side, taking Malcolm with him, and facing each other, Joe began slowly stroking his companion. He captured the sea-elf’s delicious, perfectly formed lips with his own, and the action of that and Joe’s hand had Malcolm moaning into his lover’s mouth. When their mouths parted, the wizard whispered “That feels so good, love. Oh, darling, I missed you, I missed you all these years.”

“Missed you, too, Mal,” Joe responded, his tone gentle and warm. “Now come for me. Come for me,” and he locked eyes with his partner, one set deep blue, the other warm green.

Almost on cue the guitarist climaxed, crying out his release. He was still gasping when Joe said, “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever called me darling. Darling.” He laughed.

“Would ‘asshole’ have been more apt?” the guitarist snapped, but good-natured and smiling.


	2. Elf-sexual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more drabbles of classic rock Led Zeppelinesqe Elven debauchery.
> 
> M/M and M/F sexxytimes

After much discussion it was agreed that the elf, the half-elf , and the werewolf (Joe, Kanaidwen and Gloria) would accompany the three Mohrtei to the Order of the Dragon headquarters in Erlking, VA. The building itself was an old, multi-storeyed house, the original parts of which was made up of huge drystone slabs, giving it a charmingly redneck Gothic look.

Inside said pseudo-Gothic edifice sat Maeve, Mistress of the Order, occultist, and librarian, like a great spider waiting patiently for a fly. “I know you’re there, elf,” she spoke into the silence. “I have the Gift, yanno.”

The slender figure slid out of the shadows with a grin and approached her desk. His jet-black hair was shoulder length and parted on one side, his green eyes glittering in his pale face. Pointed ears could be seen occasionally through the thick hair when he moved. “I figured it wouldn’t hurt to try, at least,” he offered. He was dressed like some English country gentlemen, long coat, waistcoat, silk shirt, scarf. “Nice place you got here.”

“Thankee kindly,” she acknowledged, closing her laptop to fully regard the intruder. Her soft brown eyes tracked the elf’s every deliberate movement but she still sat in the overstuffed computer chair, unmoving. “You’re the one they call the Wizard, ain’t ya?” He nodded assent. “We have barriers both magickal and physical and you evaded them all.”

“They don’t call us the Secret Ones for nothing,” he answered, the smile spreading across his face. Maeve hadn’t met a Fae before, and she could see why so many humans all through time were enamored and in awe—he was power and grace, despite his seeming small stature and frailty. 

“What is it you want? You’ll find we’re not as dumb as all that,” Maeve went on, never taking her eyes off Malcolm.

“I’m here to meet an old friend who’s coming over,” he quipped, coming to stand a few feet in front of the woman’s desk.

“I know.”

“Do you now?”

“Yep. They’re with my fellow practitioners,” she replied.

“Ah. Color me surprised. Well we’ll have a splendid little party then.”

“You’ll find, Mr. Riley, that I ain’t like your demon-summoning little acquaintances, an’ I’m full of surprises,” Maeve announced before launching a bolt of pure energy at him. Luckily for the guitarist, he wasn’t in the same spot for the missile to connect.

He let loose with a volley of magick of his own, which Maeve blocked and dodged. Her brute power surprised him, but no matter. He had 2,000 years experience on her and the inherent magical abilities of his sea-elf blood, and she, why she’s just a Mohrtei, right? But then she raised work-strong arms from farm labor and chanted something which sent him crashing across the room, putting him through a heavy wooden shelf. He coughed and got to his feet, shaking his head to clear it. He turned to find she had jumped up on the desk wielding a sword which she pointed at him.

“Had enough?” she taunted him. The sight was so incongruous, a rawboned redhead in capris and halter top with a sword sneering at him in her southern accent.

“Hardly,” was the reply as he sent pieces of the broken shelf rocketing at her. She batted them aside with her blade then sent blue flame from its tip at him. Raising his hand he blocked it, but in the ensuing flash and sparks the woman didn’t see how quickly he closed the gap between them. Elves, when the mood hit them, could mover faster than the human eye can even register, and before a second had even passed he was before the desk again, this time issuing a front kick that sent it tumbling from underneath the Mistress.

She screeched and pitched forward, straight into Malcolm’s arms. Even though she still had her blade in one hand, those skinny but unbelievably strong arms were around her, preventing her from using it. She looked into that face, alabaster skin stretched over bones harder than any metal known to man, in terror and wonder. He in turn gazed into her round, freckled face, noticed there were flecks of gold in the warm brown depths of her eyes, and beheld the unbelievable power she held in that amazon body taller and broader than his own. “Miss O’Connor,” he breathed out, “I don’t want to fight you. My associates and yours will be arriving before long, that’s why I showed up.”

“Mmm. That the only reason, Malcolm Riley?”

He grinned again, his full lips curling into a radiant smile. “Maeve, would you be so kind as to show me your quarters? That is, if you don’t mind.”

Her large eyes grew rounder, but she wasn’t averse to the idea. “Turn me loose an’ I’ll think about it.” He did so, and she stepped back to size him up, whether as foe or as bedmate the elf wasn’t sure, but she tossed the sword away, grasped his scarf and pulled him to her. “I still don’t trust you, but I ain’t ever fucked an elf before, and I am a scholar, after all.”

“For science, then?” the Wizard joked.

“Hell yeah, for science.”

Moments later finds her flicking on the switch to her large bedroom, full of books, paintings, sketches, and magic equipment. Despite all that was in it, the place was airy and comfortable. Malcolm scanned the room, drinking in all her interests and decorations. “You did some of the art, yeah?” he queried. He took off the scarf and shrugged off the long overcoat.

“Yeah, most of this is mine,” she admitted. She was a little self-conscious of her artwork.

He walked through the easels with paintings, then stopped before one of a dark-haired man with forest green eyes, a faint grin tugging at his lips. “So it’s not a coincidence or your tremendous magick that you know who I am.”

“Nope,” was the simple reply.

With a simple gesture, he used a spell to propel her toward him, and he wrapped his arms around her again, this time much more gently. He brought his lips to hers, finding them soft and pliant. When they parted, the woman found they were floating a good three feet off the ground. “Oh!” she gasped.

“Do you think you’re ready for this?” Malcolm asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He was pulling out all the tricks shamelessly.

“I’m ready, pointy-ears,” she sassed. “I’ve been ready.” They floated slowly down to the floor, the whole time devouring each other’s lips. When their feet were firmly planted the elf trailed kisses down her throat, and her halter top came loose of its own accord and was soon on the floor. “No fair!” she exclaimed playfully. She raised her hand then smirked as Malcolm’s waistcoat and shirt soon followed the halter top. Maeve had never used her powers during loveplay before so this was interesting, to say the least. Both topless now, she pressed herself against his smooth chest, each of them enjoying the skin on skin contact. After more kissing and soft touches, Maeve stepped back and chuckled, “I’ll do this the old fashioned way,” then stepped out of her pants. Malcolm hadn’t been this turned on in a while, not that being married to a 65,000 year old werewolf, the Wolfmother in fact, didn’t have its perks.

“All right then, old fashioned it is,” Malcolm chuckled while undoing his pants. 

At his slight hesitation Maeve cocked her head at him and observed, “You don’t do this kinda thing, do ya?”

“Heh. Not really, it’s usually more of Joe’s thing. One of my colleagues that’s coming here.”

“I know who he is,” the redhead spoke, and seated her nude self on her bed. The elf stepped out of his pants and joined her, his arm threaded around her waist like they were old lovers, despite his seeming nervousness. She turned to him. “Why did you ask me?”

“Because I’ve never met a human like you,” was his soft answer while he drank in her warm, soulful eyes.

“Oh come on, I’m sure you’ve fed that line a couple thousand times before,” she scoffed, but continued to be held by his gaze.

“I’m not Joe, and I meant what I said,” the elven wizard replied firmly. “I was watching you in the shadows earlier because…because I could feel your magick, you read like an elf to my senses to a degree. And ah, well, you’re beautiful,” he ended lamely, and wanted to kick himself.

“I’m just southwestern Virginia farm girl stock,” she scoffed again, but the earnestness in his face made her stop. “You’re beautiful,” she breathed. “Mysterious, cultured, infinitely beautiful. Why would you even—“

Malcolm ended her sentence by pressing his lips to hers, his reticence gone, replaced by his need. He was never attracted to humans in the way Joe was, and had only had a handful of lovers in his long lifetime, but despite him not detecting Faery blood in her she bore the same kind of aura, had the same sort of natural, untrained power a young elf would. And she was beautiful to him, from her freckles to the dimples in her cheeks, to her calloused worker’s hands and full round breasts that he stopped to kiss and swirl his tongue around the hardened, pink nipples.

Maeve was a bit surprised at the kiss but was immediately into it, and gasped as he gave attention to her breasts. He then knelt before her where she sat on the edge of the bed, ran his hands up her thighs, causing her to instinctively open her legs. She felt his tongue now at the center of her being, licking, probing, then finding her node of pleasure and flicking his tongue across it. “Ohhh!” she gasped out, knowing she was getting quite wet. He knew it too because then he inserted a finger in her along with what he was already doing. The human was squirming now, groaning out her increasing pleasure as he worked. After a bit she was shuddering, squealing out her release, and Malcolm felt more juices that he lapped at.

“I need you, love,” he said softly. Maeve swung herself completely in the bed and he was on top of her, guiding himself into her slit.

“Nnng!” she groaned out, unsure as to what she was expecting with an elf but he was FUCKING HARD, filling her up, with a heat she’d never experienced before.

“Everything..ahh…ok?” he asked as he thrust very slowly into her.

“Oh, we good,” she assured him. “Gahhh…ohhh…really, really good.” She was grasping his upper arms, and despite their seeming skinniness there was a feeling of metal with thin padding and skin over top, as if he was made of a different material than a human being despite his humanoid shape. It was alien, it was a bit scary, and it was supremely arousing. Something that solid and hard should be cold, but he wasn’t, in fact felt warmer than a human would. Her scholar’s mind wondered briefly about Fae metabolism before she was jolted back to what was going on, which was the guitarist fucking the living shit out of her with a dick that was hard and hot like a branding iron, only not…in a bad way.

She stared up at him, her ankles now on his shoulders as he picked up pace. He was all glowing, alabaster skin and a cloud of raven locks framing his broad face. Wait, he was GLOWING?? She filed that away for later and moved her hips to meet his thrusts. It felt like he was reaching the center of her soul, if Joe was better than this dear God she’d die of pleasure overload before finishing.

Malcolm was quickly losing his control as his partner moved in time with him, watching those creamy white breasts jiggle with his thrusts and her cute little squeals as her pleasure built again. “I’m, I’m getting close,” he moaned.

Seeing his round face in the throes of passion was nearly enough to make her come, but she bucked harder to meet the deeper thrusts and said, “Then let go. It’s ok, you won’t have any little half-elves if that’s what..unnnh..you’re afraid of.”

It was a few moments after that he climaxed, pushing wildly into her, and she joined him, both screaming for a good minute or so. Malcolm lay atop her, both sweaty and satiated, letting their heartbeats return to normal. “Malcolm,” Maeve murmured. “What’s with the, uh, glowing?”

“We’re the shining ones, Maeve dear, the Sidhe,” was the simple answer.

“Does it happen when—during, uh—“

The elf rolled off his partner and sat studying her. “You’re still cataloguing things,” he snorted. “But to answer your question, that’s not the only time. It has to do with our emotions, our senses, the situation. But that’s how we got our names, the Shining Ones.”

The mixed-blood former White Death bassist walked into the room, cursing having to come to Bumfuck Egypt yet again (meaning the Order of the Dragon headquarters) and asked the room full of elves, humans and werewolves what was the deal, when he noticed the screams from down the hall. It was screams of pleasure he discerned after a few seconds, then he recognized Joe’s high-pitched wail. His grey eyes widened when he then recognized Malcolm’s yelling something about taking his cock to the hilt. “Ah. Oh,” was his ever-British declaration. 

“Mmmyep,” Maeve agreed. She looked like she’d had a good hammering, herself, but Roger did NOT want to know with whom. Bloody randy elves and werewolves.

“Blondie and the Wizard are reconnecting,” Kanaidwen chirped brightly. Of all people to be ok with this, Roger didn’t expect her. He assumed she was happy it wasn't another groupie.

There were three other humans and what he sensed was a werewolf there, all looking rather uncomfortable.

“I’m available if anyone is needing a good shag,” Chris put in, earning a pained glare from his sister Maeve. “Don’t give me that look, you hussy,” he pouted. “You get elf ass and I ain’t got shit.”

Maeve responded by giving him the middle finger.

“You know about the song, don’t you?” Gloria, the werewolf asked the bassist. “The song that kills people who listen to it?”

“I do, but first things first. Could I at least get a drink?” wondered Roger, exasperated.

“Yeah, got a full stocked bar,” bragged Chris, heading toward it.

MEANWHILE in one of the spare bedrooms Malcolm was moving in and out of his old singer with abandon, Joe moving in time with his pushes and screaming like a banshee when the guitarist hit the right spot. “Ah, ah, ahhh,” the blond elf singsonged, sounding like some of the sexually charged songs on their albums. It was a tremendous turn-on, and he kept one hand on Joe’s hip while the other grasped Joe’s shaft, moving up and down in time with his thrusts.

“Yes! Gods! Take my cock, take it,” the guitarist bellowed. Joe still didn’t know, but he’d loved the Bard for so long, hundreds of years in fact. He’d never told a soul, hadn’t even admitted it to himself. He knew Joe chased skirts more than anything, Mohrtei ones in particular. Joehnar had always been there, would give his life for him, he knew, that was the kind of person he was. But he was the eccentric friend, always the guy in the background, he thought.

“I’m gonna come, nnngghh, you’re gonna make me come,” whined the singer, who couldn’t wait any longer.

Malcolm sped up, so when jets of his essence began spurting from the blond elf’s cock, the sea-elf finished soon after, spending himself on Joe’s back. They both collapsed on the bed, panting. The dark-haired elf threw his arm around his companion, snuggling close.

“Ah, how have you been, then?” Joe said casually, as if they’d just shared a handshake.

“Asshole,” Malcolm muttered.

Joe squirmed round till he was facing his longtime friend, and put his arm around the elf wizard. “Darling. That was amazing. Surprising and unexpected, but great.” In the dim light the unearthly sheen of the pair’s skin illuminated the immediate area where they lay.

“How did we even, like, end up like this? I was so angry at you for disappearing. Forty years, Joe.”

Joe sighed. “I know. I’m a bastard. I do love you, you know.”

Malcolm’s breath caught in his throat. “Wh-what?”

Their faces were inches apart, holding one another’s gaze. “I love you, Mal. I didn’t expect you’d think it worth anything, knowing how I am. And I’m the farthest thing from monogamous, but when I feel, it’s real. I let my son give up his life for you, and for Britain,” he ended in a whisper.

Malcolm’s large green eyes widened. “That’s how I was able to escape the Fir Bolg,” he spoke out loud. “Galahad, Skamin, the Light of the World…Joe, I never knew.”

“It’s good to hear his names spoken,” Joe closed his eyes, the pain evident on his face. “He’s the only good thing I’ve ever done.”

“No! No,” Malcolm cried. “You’ve made me the happiest man alive. I’ve loved you for so long, Joehnar Westenra. You’ve given me such joy, and now I know you’ve saved my life. Joe, please,” he continued as the blond elf sat up, his face sad.

“I know what you’re about to ask,” he said. “And I will refuse.”

“What!” Malcolm sat up, eyes narrowing in anger. “We could be married, a group marriage, you and I and Kanaid and Lilith. It’s not so unusual among the Sidhe! Why not?”

“We can’t!” he sobbed out. “Kanaidwen hates werewolves, the Wolfmother most of all. And Lilith doesn’t think much of me, either. It’s too complicated, Mal, it wouldn’t work.”

“You won’t even try? You’ve sacrificed so much already, for me, but you won’t even try?”

“Just drop it, Mal. Please. This was a beautiful moment, don’t make it ugly.”

“You just did!” Malcolm exploded. “I want you. I’ll always want you, you miserable wretch,” he leaped from the bed, sobbing, and snatched up his clothes.

[Joe West](http://fav.me/d5wjv67)

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, something I forgot. Elves start to lose the magical energy after so many years, that keeps them from aging. They either gather at Sidhe mounds where they can even each other out, or go back to Tir-na-Nog to soak up the energy there.


End file.
